Massacre at Malmedy
by ICPO
Summary: [AU] December 17th, 1944, 86 Americans are ruthlessly gunned down by their SS captures in a field off the Baugnez crossroads near the town of Malmedy, Belgium. Sgt. Miroku Doyle and his men are among the hand full of survivors...
1. Forward

All right, I've been sort of slow in writing, anything for that matter. Now I'm going to try and change that around though…

Forward 

The year is 1944, Hitler has conquered Europe while Hirohito has conquered the pacific. America has been rocked by the events of December 7th, 1941 and has officially entered the war.

Though under manned and outgunned, the United States Armed Forces have one thing going for them, the industrial might of a nation not yet hampered by attacks on their factories.

With this behind them, there is no way they can lose… or can they? The fate of the world hangs in the balance as the allied invasion of the French coast begins in the early hours of June 6th, 1944.

Spearheading this attack are the force of the British 6th Airborne, the American 101st Airborne, and the American 82nd Airborne. One of these men is Lance Corporal Shippo Branch of the 101st.

He is young soldier, only 20, with his whole life ahead of him. As part of a unit he is only one, but he stands out compared to the rest. With his emerald green eyes and chestnut hair he is a welcomed site to a wounded soldier, he is the medic of his unit.

Like many other men he joined the airborne on promises of increased wages and the adventure of lifetime, seeing foreign lands and exotic women. Now he's not so sure as his C-47 begins it's accent and thunders across the English Channel.

_Will this be my grave? _his mind screams at him _How stupid was I? _He begins to wonder _What guy in his right mind would join a unit that lives to jump out of planes?_

It's to late for second thoughts now, his plane is already well of the ground and on it's way to Normandy. The fate of the world is now in the hands of thousands of men wondering the same thing as they are hurtled towards France.

If they should fail though, all will be lost. The Germans will tare the invasion force to pieces and the world will be under the control of the swastika.

Miles below them Sergeant Miroku Doyle prepares his men, the men of the 2nd Ranger Battalion for what lies ahead. In a matter of hours his men will be shuttled to the beach by British Seamen.

He is the leader of a small squad of Rangers. At 30 he is young for the position, the youngest noncommissioned officer in the company. Among his men, he is known as a gentle, soft-spoken man. They have yet to see him in combat though, when his purple eyes shine with death as his black hair becomes dirty.

There are two things he lives for now, his men, and his wife Sango back home in the states. She is five months pregnant and expecting not only a healthy baby boy but a loving husband to be in her life in the next four months.

Among the men in his squad is the impatient man that is Corporal Inuyasha Morgan. A man of mystery concealed behind silvery white hair and amber eyes. Not much is known about his past, only that he is devoid of all but one emotion, anger.

Their job, the job of the entire 2nd Ranger Battalion is to destroy the guns on the strategic Pointe du Hoc, a position capable of nailing the surrounding landing beaches as the rest of the Army pours onto them.

Unfortunately the pointe sits upon cliffs the tower hundreds of feet above the sea. Trusting their lives only to the British Seaman and the rocket propelled grappling hooks attached to their LCVPs.

These are their stories, the stories of men brought in to a war they did not start. They were damn well going to finish it though.


	2. Chapter 1:Letter Home

Okay, delayed from original plans? Yes. Very short? More than likely. Oh well, here it is…

**Chapter 1**

**Letter Home**

Dear Mrs. Sango Doyle,

First I would like to wish you a Merry Christmas and congratulations on the excepted baby. On a more somber note, your husband, Staff Sergeant Miroku Doyle, was killed last week near the town of Malmedy, Belgium.

I know nothing I say in this letter will be able to comfort you. I really am sorry for your loss, and though I won't miss Miroku in the same way as you, I will miss him. He was a good man, I know you don't need me to tell you that, but he was a good man. He will be missed by all of us over here that had known him, and each and every one of us send you our condolences.

I won't get into any details of his death now, rather leave that for the attached report, but know this, your husband died a hero in a foreign land, another victim of this bloody war. If it's the last thing I do I'll see that he's awarded the Medal of Honor for what he did.

I can only hope that this letter will help you to understand how your husband died, and why.

My sincerest condolences,

Cpl. Shippo Branch

U. S. Army, 502nd Airborne

"B" Company, Third Platoon

So their it is, what do you think?

If you read this then hopefully my forward, and side not sparked interest in you so just stick with me on this one, okay?


	3. Chapter 2:Misdrop

All right, so the first two chapters were kind of short…okay, they were really short. Now though I'm getting into the bulk of the story so bear with me as weave my tale from Normandy to Belgium and eventually Miroku's death!

**Chapter 2**

**Mis-drop**

It was loud, really loud. That's what I remember the most about the flight over the Channel. For what seemed liked hours all I could hear was the thunder of those huge engines. I knew we could have only been airborne for maybe fifteen minutes but it, seemed like hours to me.

We may have been in the air only fifteen minutes, but this was what we'd been training for. Training for months back in the states so we could be the stupidest guys in the army, the only ones that would jump out of a perfectly good airplane.

Considering all that training you'd have thought we'd have been ready for this, and, in a way, I guess we were. We were all ready to jump, we'd done it at least twice before and we were all ready to fight, and die, for America, or so we thought.

All around me in that cramped plane were the men I'd trained with, twenty eight of them, all sitting their, waiting for the signal to jump. In the mean time they were chatting with their friends about their sweethearts back home, or how they'd personally kill Hitler with one hand.

Some of them, the more hardened, were enjoying one last smoke before the jump, and for some of them their last smoke, period. But they didn't know that yet, so they sat there, puffing on their smokes, happy as could be.

Not being much of a smoker or a talker I spent the whole of the time starring out the window at the black mass below that was the English Channel, and for a while I could also see huge black shapes rising up out of the water. They were the destroyers, and the troop ships that would be hitting the beaches in the morning.

All I could do was stare at them in awe, I mean, it seemed impossible that in just a few months we'd managed to gather this huge armada, especially after what the Germans had done to London. In just a few hours those ships would start moving for the French coast, they'd finally be bring the fight to the Nazis as our boys poured onto the beaches.

That was their job, land on the beaches and run like hell. Our job on the other hand, was a little more complicated. We had to jump out of our planes, hit the ground running, and take out the Germans behind Utah Beach.

We were the men of the 502nd Airborne, and our job was to kill the Germans behind Utah Beach and they take out any that tried to run after the regular infantry hit the beach. It all seemed simple enough, we were to drop in near the town of St. Mere-Eglise and then move to capture the two causeways leading off of Utah.

We all knew what were supposed to do, running over the details of it was the only thing we'd been doing since getting to England. We weren't worried, so we all just passed the time until the drop however we wanted.

Before I knew it the calm rising and falling of the Channel below had faded away. Fadded into jagged forests and clustered villages, and for a time, it was quiet. Then, as if of the same accord, all the flak in Normandy started competing with our planes for control of the sky.

It was like every flak gun below was aiming at us, forcing the plane to pitch left and right as the explosions got ever closer, and when it did get to close, the plane would give a violent shudder and then lurch away before leveling off. At that point we all had the same idea, get out of this plane before it becomes our grave, but out platoon Sergeant, man by the name of Nicholes, just stood in the door way and blocked our only escape.

"Wait for the green light!" he kept yelling over and over as he tried to keep some degree of control over us, his terrified men. When the green light finally did come everything seemed to get real quiet, and for a minute I almost forgot where I was. Then a sudden explosion behind me jarred me back to reality.

"Damn it Branch! Griffon's been hit, take care of him!" Sarge yelled back at me as he continued to usher the rest of the platoon out the door. Behind me, slouched against the side of the plane was Private Griffon. Apparently the explosion behind me was an anti-aircraft shell ripping through the side of the plane, and into Griffon.

"Well how the hell is he!" Sarge shouted back after the last of my comrades had jumped. "He'll live, but he won't jump!" I yelled back as I gently caressed a piece of shrapnel that had lodged itself into Griffon's left arm.

"Damn it!" Sarge yelled back "well.. ride this tin can back to England and see what you can do for him!" he shouted back at me one last time before he to disappeared into the darkness outside the plane.

I didn't take much time to think about it before I went to work on Griffon, doing just what they taught me back in basic training. "This might hurt a bit!" I shouted to Griffon over the engines as I began to work the piece of shrapnel from his bloody arm.

It was slow work as I tired to work the shrapnel out while causing Griffon as little pain as possible and, after a minute or two, I'd managed to get it out. Luckily it hadn't splintered as it ripped into his arm, making things a lot easier.

After tossing the chunk of metal out the gapping hole in the side of the plane I poured a pack of morphine on the wound, applied pressure, and wrapped it. None of his major arteries had been cut, another stroke of luck, so the bleeding was relatively easy to stop.

By the time I'd bandaged his wound the flak had already stopped and, as far as I could tell, we were well over the English Channel. With that thought I leaned against the side of the plane, for me the invasion was over, and for Griffon the war.

I was just about ready to sit back and enjoy the ride when a finally piece of flak ripped into the plain It tore the entire rear of the plane off creating a vacuum, through which I was sucked out.

I didn't think, I just grabbed the ripcord and gave a good yank, releasing my parachute from its cotton prison. It seemed like along way down to the ground, and it probably was, but I just drifted down, watching the flaming remains of my C-47 as it spiraled out of control before smashing into the ground. No other parachutes came out of that plane.

After seeing the plane crash into the ground, as well as the ensuing explosion, I came to the realization that I was drifting into land, not the English Channel as I had thought, but land.

Before I know it I had come ramming down to the ground, just barley remembering to pick my knees up before hitting the ground, ass first. And so I sat there, in the middle of a field, trying to figure out where the hell I was.

Only problem was, I had no idea where the hell I was. On the way down I'd seen a tiny village. I knew it was no where close to the drop zone but I tired to remember it from all the briefings, I couldn't. Needless to say, it wasn't on any maps I had either.

I had no choice, I wandered into town. But before I was even in, I knew it had been a mistake to go there. The minute I set foot in that damn town I knew it was a mistake. I could hear a conversation drifting out from a near by building "Ich höre, dass der fuher unter dem Wetter fühlt." "Wirklich? Das zu schlecht…"

That was all I needed to hear, I… kinda panicked… and dove into a ditch. I knew two languages, English and French, and that was neither. So as I sat there in that muddy ditch listening to the conversation, the gravity of the situation gradually sunk in, I was in the middle of France, alone, with no weapon, in the middle of German held territory.

I was screwed.

Well what do you think, a decent length chapter for review?

And just for reference the German conversation portrayed roughly translates, roughly mind you, to "I hear the fuher is feeling under the weather." "Really? That's too bad…"

Well, like I said, you can make up your minds about this little story know.


	4. Chapter 3:Pointe du Hoc?

All right, for those of you who have stuck with me, thanks, and to those that haven't, well, their loss. At any rate this might be the last update for a while, going to Florida for spring break, but I assure you I'll have another up by the end of April.

**Chapter 3**

**Pointe du Hoc?**

I spent the whole night in that crappy little ditch; there wasn't much else I could do. After all I was still stuck behind German lines with on weapon and no chance of help, at least until morning. So until then I tried, tried being the key word, to get some sleep.

Apparently the Krauts weren't happy enough with just shooting down my plane, oh no. Every five minutes, just as I might get some sleep, they started shooting or a truck drove by or some damn thing happened.

Just when what I thought the final truck was went by and I started to drift off, there came a sudden whistling sound from somewhere out side of town. At first it sounded far off but within seconds it was already ten times louder. Then, with almost no warning, I heard a terrific explosion form the direction I assume was the sea.

I sat up bolt straight and listened, forgetting I was surrounded by krauts. Sure enough just outside of town I could already see a jet-black plume of smoke snaking its way into the sky. There was another explosion and soon that was all I could here. It took me a minute to figure out what they were, really had to think because it was something I wasn't suppose to hear that morning. And then, it suddenly hit me; the sea borne invasion of Normandy had begun.

This was just the prelude to the musical of death that would follow, conducted by the high and mighty men sitting safely in Britain and Berlin and this was obviously the orchestra of death, the actors making their slow approach to the stage in landing craft. This was obviously what I had seen the night before, the huge shadows set against the English Channel, the sacrificial lambs sent to carry out the will of their governments, pawns in a gambit that held within it the fate of the world.

These thoughts were quickly struck from my head as stray shells began exploding in the little French hamlet. I glanced at my watch, it read "June 6th, 5:30 AM."

The shells began blowing huge parts of buildings apart. It was a terrific sight, watching as brick and mason came falling to the street, taking with them hundreds of years worth of history.

I ducked back into the ditch as a building across the street was demolished; it was the same one that had held the German conversers the night before. Now it was showering the area with chunks of brick, wood, and glass. The shelling lasted for what seemed like hours as shells hit in and out of the village, demolishing German and civilian housing alike.

When it finally did end I looked down at my watch again, "June 6th, 5:50 AM." The whole event had lasted only twenty minutes, but I prayed to god that it had left an impression on the Germans. I prayed that it would show them their Führer had lied to them, lied that their 'Atlantic Wall' was impenetrable. With this revelation I hoped they would just give up, that there would be no blood spilt and that the boys on the beach would just stroll right through to Berlin. Looking back I see how childish that was, but in a way I was still a child, one that had yet to learn about the way the world really works when at war.

After that everything was eerily quiet until shouts from what I assumed was the beach were met with a gradual buzzing, kind of like a buzz saw. Act I had begun, and now it was the Kraut's turn to flex their band's might as they opened up with their MGs, much like the bittersweet trumpets of a blues melody. It came slowly, quietly, and then started to pick up intensity and it was then that I knew what was happening; they were firing at the boys on the beach!

I couldn't do anything; I just sat there in that ditch and waited, waited for a German to come along, waited for death. In those first few minutes that's how I felt, that no matter how much training you had you'd die a bloody death against those machine guns.

It never came though, and within ten minutes the MG's melody of death had faded away to nothingness, just sporadic pops from all around me. Soon though I could here footsteps, running, in the street.

I didn't dare peek up, but my curiosity got the better of me, so I popped up just long enough to glance about the street. Right then though I wished I hadn't, all the footsteps, there had been at least two sets, stopped. Suddenly I could hear the cocking of a rifle and a quick flurry of feet as two shapes suddenly appeared above me and blocked out the sun.

"Who the hell are you?" one of the shapes asked as he swung his rifle to bear right between my eyes.

"Easy Morgan, does he really look like a Nazi to you?" the other asked in a good-natured tone.

"You can never tell with these crafty SOB's sir, you never know what they might try." The other retorted as he pushed the muzzle to my skin "You remember that possum one we found in the bunker, don't ya?"

"Yes, I do, but you think he just pulled those jump wings off an airborne guy, way out here? I don't think so." The second said in a bemused way as he extended his free hand "Now come on out of that ditch."

"So what the hells a jumper doing way out here?" the one called Morgan said once I was clear of the ditch. "Sorry sir, but, where exactly is here?" I asked as I began to dust myself off.

"Here? Well here… this is Pointe du Hoc" Morgan replied absently.

All I could do was stand there, dumbfounded. Pointe du Hoc was nowhere near my landing zone; fact was it wasn't even on the same beach.

Pointe du Hoc was a small outcropping in the Normandy coast that connected Utah and Omaha Beaches. Apparently six 155mm guns were there, and they were ready to bring down the hurt on our boys.

If that had been the only thing interesting about the place I probably wouldn't have cared, just pushed out of my mind after the briefings, but what really got my attention was that it was set on top of 100ft cliffs.

They said the poor bastards charged with taking it would have to scramble up the cliffs and knock out the German positions in minutes or they'd be driven over the cliff and back into the sea.

This all ran through my mind as I stood there in the middle of the street. "This can't be," I remember thinking to myself "How the hell could I end up here?"

Apparently I hadn't just been thinking those words, but mumbling them to myself until the Corporal brought me back to reality. "Snap out of it you idiot" he growled, nailing me right in the back of the head with his fist and sending my helmet sliding down the street. "What the hell was that for?" I shouted and lunged for him.

"Easy boys, save it for the Germans" the other, a Sergeant, sighed as he caught me just before I got at the other one's throat.

"Yes…sir" I grumbled as I pushed away from him and went to retrieve my helmet. "Bye the way sir, who exactly are you people?" I asked after getting my helmet. I glanced form him to the corporal and back again.

"That's right, I suppose we haven't been properly introduced yet have we?" he replied in turn "Well, I'm Sergeant Doyle, Miroku Doyle. You can just call me Miroku, and the hot head over there" he paused as he cocked his head towards the Corporal "Is Corporal Inuyasha Morgan" to which Morgan just scoffed. "Were both part of the 2nd Ranger Battalion" he declared proudly to which Morgan scoffed again. "Don't mind him, he's like that to every one" he added in an undertone.

They were an interesting part, your husband and Inuyasha. How they ever managed to keep from killing each other, let alone operate as soldiers together, eluded me. They were a stark contrast, anyone how saw them together could tell that.

Inuyasha was the kind of guy people thought about when they were talking about Marines, though, gruff, short-tempered, and quick to the trigger, as I had learned first hand. He didn't even follow military protocols; leaning against the building as he clutched his rifle and took deep, long drags from his cigarette, a permanent scowl on his face. They had obviously never been regarded as rules, but rather as suggestions that need not be followed, for he had let his silver hair grow long. He now allowed it to drape freely around his shoulders, occasionally blowing merrily in the breeze. It was obvious he didn't think much of me, or anyone for that matter, save Miroku, as his light amber eyes drifted absently through the smoke.

Miroku, on the other hand, was a different story. He stood their beaming merrily at me, one rifle tucked under his arm, another hanging loosely from his shoulder. Military protocols must have obviously been lost on him as well, his dark black hair pulled back tightly into a small ponytail and a few gold rings hung cheerfully from his ears. On the outside he seemed to be just like anyone else, save for his permanent grim, but I could tell other wise. I could see it in his eyes, those dark purple eyes, that he was a man who could read almost anyone like an open book. I could tell that's what he was doing, staring intently into my eyes until I finally broke the silence.

"Right…well I'm Lance Corporal Shippo Branch, 502nd Airborne" I replied. "Right then, I see you're a medic, good, good. You can help us, but for now, how are you with a rifle?" Miroku asked as he gave me the once over.

"I'm okay sir, I can shoot one, if that's what you mean." I replied sheepishly as I began to lightly kick at the ground. "Well that's better then nothing, now isn't it?" he bellowed enthusiastically as he clasped me by the shoulder and placed an M1 Garand into my hand, the one that had hung from his shoulder.

"That's the only extra we've got, so try not to lose it, okay?" Miroku said warningly, but with a good nature.

"Hate to break this up…" Inuyasha said loudly, more to himself then anyone "But shouldn't we be going sir. We still have a job to do after all" he growled with distaste.

"Ah, of course, absolutely right Inuyasha. Why don't you fill in our new man here" Miroku said before heading down the road. "I'll take point!" he called back over his shoulder as Inuyasha began to fill me in.

"All right" he began in an annoyed tone "Our job was to take out six 155mm guns that were suppose to be on the cliffs…."

"Yeah I remember hearing about that in the briefings…" I mumbled to myself.

"Yeah, well they weren't there, so now we've got to go inland and try and find'em" he ended, the same annoyance still present before suddenly bursting out in annoyed rage "THOSE GOD DAMN BASTARDS REPLACED THEM WITH FUCKING TELEPHONE POLES!"

While we'd been talking we hadn't noticed that the village was already behind us. We found ourselves instead on a bluff just outside the village that overlooked a small field surrounded by hedges on either side.

Directly beyond the field we could see a small road weaving its way through the French countryside until it disappeared into another hedge. Every few feet down a small stonewall rose from the field.

Before we knew it though the bullets started flying all around us as we dove for the closest wall.

"Damn it!" Inuyasha cried before leaping to his feet and firing off his seven round clip, bullets whizzing by his head.

"Well?" Miroku questioned quickly as Inuyasha dove back for the safety of the wall.

"I don't know, maybe three, maybe four" he growled as he shoved another clip into his M1.

"Okay, on three" Miroku started just as a bullet ricocheted off the wall with a small tink. "One" he said slowly as he cocked his M1. "Two" as he prepared his rifle and Inuyasha readjusted his skewed helmet. "Three!" and we were all up, over the wall, and charging across the field. What had compelled me to jump from the safety of the fence to the open field was beyond me.

"Just keep going!" Miroku yelled over to me as he cocked his rifle and continued to fire. The whole way down the field we were nothing short of madmen, draining clip after clip, signified by the small pings our rifles made as they ejected the spent clip.

"GOD DAMN IT!" I heard to my left where Inuyasha had been as he fell hard to the ground.

"Oh shit" I started to mumble to myself as I jammed another clip into my rifle just as I cleared the far side of the field.

I quickly wheeled around and began firing wildly at the Germans that had taken refuge behind their own wall. I couldn't stop myself; I just kept firing, letting each bullet slide easily from barrel. I just stood there, almost as if I were watching from outside my body, watching all of the bullets find their mark inside those Krauts. Every time one hit another splash of crimson blood was forced from the body as the bullets explode in, splattering all over the wall and sandy road.

Even after I was out of rounds I just kept pulling the trigger until I finally collapsed against the wall, dropping the rifle to the ground and curling into a ball with my knees tucked in close. Then, for no reason, I just broke down and began to bawl into my knees. I didn't know why I was crying, but I couldn't help from doing it either, so I just sat there until Miroku came up to me.

"Come on Shippo" he began soothingly as he rested his hand on my shoulder "It'll be all right. You didn't have a choice; it was killed or be killed. And besides…" he chuckled in an almost bemused way "That's what we get paid to do."

"Yeah… yeah, I guess so" as I began to chuckle along with him.

"If it's not too much trouble…" came a voice from behind us "Somebody mind fucking helping me!" Inuyasha erupted as he began to force himself up.

"Right" I called back to him as I got to my feet and wiped away the last of my tears. "Thanks Miroku" I whispered back before rushing back up the field to where Inuyasha had propped himself up against an uprooted tree.

"Where you hit" I said as I kneeled done beside him and swung my Medic's bag around. "Where the fuck do you think!" he spat at me as he jerked his head to his bloody arm.

"Yeah, yeah…" I sighed as I ripped open his army jacket and tee before getting to work.

Half way through digging the bullet he started giving me weird looks to the point where I had to stop and ask him what was wrong. "Oh nothing" he half laughed "Just looks like you been crying. Poor little Shippo…" he started in a baby voice "Got himself all worked up about killing some krauts and now he don't know what to do!" he exclaimed before breaking into a hysterical laugh.

"Think you're funny, do ya?" I asked sarcastically as I finally dug the bullet out and began rapping the wound. "Yeah… I do!" he managed to blurt out between laughs.

"Yeah, real funny man" he mumbled as I wrapped the bandage around his arm, and tied it with a decisive yank.

"Ow, god damn it! Watch what the hell you're doing!" he shout at me as I began to pack my stuff away and move to rejoin Miroku.

"Sorry" I tossed back in a falsely sweet voice.

I found Miroku standing right near the dead krauts, staring off down a small country road as he puffed slowly on a cig. As I approached him the smell of death already wafted through the air, mixed with smell of tobacco coming from his cigarette. I just couldn't bring myself to look at the German, so I concentrated solely on rejoining the Sergeant.

"What's up?" I asked, trying to pull him from some deep thought.

"Does it look like anything's been moved down there?" he asked absently as he pointed to the dirt road with his cig.

"I guess so…" I replied nervously, temporarily unsure of the sanity level of my new Sergeant. "Good enough then" he sighed as he flicked his cig to the ground, grinding it from existence with the heel of his boot. "Where's Inuyasha?" he asked me absently, still concentrating on the road. "Right here" Inuyasha mumbled as he joined us "And don't worry, I'm fine" he grumbled until he noticed the road Miroku was concentrating on. "This it" he asked in the same absent tone as Miroku as he put a fresh clip into his rifle, covered with his blood, and silently cocked it.

"Seems to be" he sighed as he followed suit with Inuyasha. "Shall we get to work then?" Miroku said pleasantly as he swung his rifle up. "After you" replied Inuyasha in the same manner, but with a huge sweeping hand gesture. "Why thank you" Miroku replied cordially, and we were off.

About three minutes latter we found ourselves crammed between two hedgerows and out of sight of the road when Miroku suddenly held out his hand out to stop us, turned, and half whispered, "Boys, here they are. We've found 'em. Here are the goddamned guns."

"Really?" Inuyasha and I whispered in return and, sure enough, there were the six guns, set right on the edge of a field, and with plenty of ammo too. They obviously been prepped for firing long ago, and from what I could tell were aimed at Utah beach. "All right lets get'em!" I whispered excitedly as I half jumped to my feet before being dragged back to the ground by two pairs of hands and a gruff "Sit boy" from Inuyasha.

"Ow, what was that for!" I retorted in an angry hiss. "Look across the field, and tell me what you see" Inuyasha sighed in an exasperated manner.

"Um…oh." I mumbled because there, across the field, were about a hundred Germans crouched down in the brush, trees, and undergrowth. "Exactly" Inuyasha scoffed.

"Hmm…all right then" Miroku suddenly blurted out. "Okay, we need to work fast, so just shut up for a minute" Miroku started whispering hurriedly. "Inuyasha, how many thermites you got?" "About three" Inuyasha replied quickly.

"All right, I've got three so that's six between us, just enough." He sighed in relief "Inuyasha, give Shippo one of your grenades, and here's one of mine" Miroku continued on as he hand me a grenade. "Okay look, these are the same as normal grenades except they melt stuff instead of blow it up" Miroku began for my obvious benefit "Just stick it in the traversing sights and move on to the next one."

"Okay, that makes sense, just one question… what's a traversing sight?" I asked, totally dumbstruck by the word.

"Oh for Christ's sake… there the little wheels on the side, just stick it in there and pull the pin." Inuyasha growled in annoyance. "Right, now that we all know what they are, Shippo, you've got the two guns furthest over, Inuyasha you've got the middle two, and I've got these two." Miroku paused as he pointed to the closet guns.

"Ready? Go!" Miroku half-whispered as we all dashed to our guns. Everything seemed to be going fine, you just stick the grenade in the wheel and pull the pin. In fact, the first gun was out with no problems, gave off a nice little spark to when the grenade went off.

Those grenades were real effective; what ever was in'em ate right through the metal on the gun. Then I got to the second gun and repeated the process only one thing went wrong, the grenade didn't go off.

"Shit!" I cursed to myself before hissing over to Inuyasha "I got a dud grenade, now what!"

"I don't fucking know, bash in the sights with your rifle or something!" he hissed back before returning to work on his second gun.

_Oh well, here goes!_ I quickly thought to myself before I began to strike the sights with my rifle butt. Eventually they collapsed in on themselves and I quickly rushed back to where the others had assembled near the road.

Miroku greeted my return with "Well now that were all here, what say we get the hell out?" to which Inuyasha and I readily agreed.

Well there it is, Chapter three. Like I said this will probably be one of the last updates for at least a week as I soak up some rays down in Florida. I wish you all an enjoyable and safe Easter and whether or not you celebrate it I think we can all agree on one thing, it's a good excuse to take a vacation! See ya!

On a quick side not anything depicted in this story is based on actual facts even though the names have been changed.

And for a quick 'fun' fact, Miroku's line "_Boys, here they are. We've found 'em. Here are the goddamned guns." _Is actually what was said by Sergeant Leonard Lomell, the first man to find the guns from the 2nd Ranger Battalion except he said "Kuhn" instead of "Boys"


	5. Chapter 4:Battle on the Cliffs

Chapter 4 

**Battle on the Cliffs **

With the guns knocked out Miroku lead us back to the country lane where the three Germans still lay. Now though, the intersection was alive with Ranger reinforcements.

"Find the guns?" asked one of the Rangers, another sergeant. "Yep" Miroku replied as he pulled out two cigs, one for himself, and one for Inuyasha. "Knock'em out?" asked the sergeant again as he glanced down at his wrist watch. "Yeah Frank, all four of them" Miroku replied as he struck a match on his helmet and, after lighting his own cig, held it out for Inuyasha.

"Good, right on schedule then" Frank replied as he pulled a cigar from his pocket "Can I bum a light? Lost mine in the landing." "Sure" Miroku said as he tossed him a pack of matches. "Thanks" Frank mumbled as he pulled one out of the packet, struck it on his heel, and lit up. The rest of the pack he stuck in the leather strap around his helmet.

"You might want to set up some machine guns Frank. There were about a hundred Germans crouching in the brush back there." Miroku said after taking a long drag from his smoke. "Right, I'll send some scouts up first; make sure I'm not pulling a machine gun off this road block for nothing." Frank sighed, but catching the glare from Miroku added "Make sure they're still there first."

With in an hour we'd managed to build up the roadblock. It wasn't much, just the debris we could gather from the village and surrounding farmland, but at least it assured we wouldn't be killed to quickly.

As promised Frank had sent a two man group back to the guns, but said they couldn't find any Germans around them. They checked all over I guess and from what they said Miroku's guess at a hundred Germans having been there was right. There were plenty of tracks in the brush and around the guns, but the Germans must have moved on. Before long though we knew where they'd gone, they began hitting our roadblock with everything they could.

The Germans acted like madmen, boldly charging our machine guns only to be cut in have by the streams of lead we were pouring on. That's not to say we didn't have our own casualties. One Kraut had managed to take cover behind a dead cow in the middle of the road, and from there all he had to do was lob in a potato masher. The explosion ripped apart two guys on the right side, showering us living with their dead bones and flesh.

Inuyasha jumped clean over our barricade and bashed that Kraut's face in with his M-1 before any of us even knew what was going on, let alone the Kraut. When Inuyasha clamored back over into our line Miroku called him an idiot for what he had done, but when no one was looking clapped him on the back and handed over a small flask, which Inuyasha quickly took with a mumbled "thanks."

After that we managed to hold the Krauts off until the Brownings fell silent. On either side of the roadblock were dozens of German bodies. That was one day after the invasion. By the morning of the second day they'd hit the roadblock again, and this time they brought along some Panzer Mk. III. We held a little longer with grenades before we had to pull back. One of the last men out was Frank, running like a bat of hell while we gave him all the cover fire we could.

It didn't help though; they cut him to ribbons with their MGs, he never had a chance. Everybody knew he was dead, I knew he was dead, but I still went instinctively to him. I vaulted the low wall we'd been using for cover and bolted over to him.

"That you doc?" he cried as I knelt beside him. "Yeah Frank, it's me" he began to cry to as I cradle him. "Doc, Doc, I can't feel my legs Doc" he began to moan. "I know Frank" I sighed as I stared at the bloody stumps that were his legs. "Doc, I'm not gonna make it, am I?" he asked through gasps of breath. I began to say something "Don't bother Doc, I know I'm not gonna" he cut me off as he dug into a shirt pocket "Just mail this when you get the chance."

With a quick gasp for breath he was gone, eyes wide as he stared up. I gently lowered his eyelids and pulled the envelope from his limp hand before someone grabbed me from behind and began dragging me back. The last thing I saw of Frank was a blood-spattered pack of matches and a smoldering cigar before a shell sent his body to oblivion.

He was only the first of many to die over the next day. By noon the Panzers had forced us back into the village, shelling buildings at random. Every now and then a Kraut would pop into one of the houses some of our guys were hiding in. Our boys would of course kill him, but seeing a dead Kraut fall through a doorway makes an easy target. In those early hours to shot was to die, and to hold fire was to die.

Only Inuyasha and Miroku seemed unfazed by the whole thing. They just set their M-1s down in a corner, pulled out their bayonets, and hid in the shadows by the door. When the first Kraut came in, Inuyasha clapped his hand to the Kraut's mouth, and Miroku pressed against the Kraut's back to keep him up. Then, in unison, they drove their bayonets into him; Miroku's went through his throat while Inuyasha's pierced his heart.

They quickly tossed him aside as they heard another Kraut shouting at the house "Hanz, sind Sie innen dort?"

The wounds on the kraut were still gushing blood when the second kraut came in "Dieses ist nicht lustiges Hanz, sind Sie innen dort oder…" he stared as he entered the house. He quickly realized he was calling for a dead man as he saw the blood-spattered walls and the lifeless body of his comrade. He was about to call out, to run from the sight of his dead friend, but the minute he turned Inuyasha sliced his throat from ear to ear.

"Get these guys into the next room!" Inuyasha shouted to and me and a private as he tossed the new addition next to Hanz. We dragged them into the next room, leaving a red trail in the dust behind us, and threw'em down against the far wall. The private, Ryan I think his name was, began rummaging through the dead men's pockets. "All right, a Luger" he said excitedly as he drew a small sidearm from one of the men's holster and pocketed it. He obviously caught the glance I was giving him and added, "I promised I'd send my little brother one."

He smiled briefly before an 8mm bullet lodged itself in his brain; a Kraut smiled widely from behind him as he pulled back the bolt on his rifle and turned his attention towards me. The shell casing spiraled through the air and clinked off Ryan's helmet. I dove to the floor and grabbed the Luger from Ryan's still warm hand and emptied the clip into the Kraut's chest.

Miroku and Inuyasha came rushing in, M-1s raised. "It's okay, he's dead" I sighed as I nudged the motionless body on the floor. "Great, but what the hell happened?" Miroku asked as Inuyasha crossed the room and closed an open window. "My guess is there was a draft" Inuyasha smirked as he strode past me. "Is that what happened Shippo?" Miroku asked uncertainly as he glanced from Ryan to the German before resting his gaze on me. "I guess so, I mean I never heard him come him, just all the sudden Ryan was on the floor and he…" I paused to point at the Kraut; he was still wearing a huge grin "Was behind him."

"You better take a look at this!" Inuyasha suddenly blurted out as he ran back into the room and dragged us to the door. Outside in the street was one of the Panzers, its commander leaning over the edge of the turret to talk to a foot soldier. The soldier was very excited, or nervous, over something as he spoke in rapid German with wild hand gestures, most of which were directed at our house.

"Oh shit" Miroku gasped as the soldier ran off and the commander shouted into the turret. "We've got get outta here!" he yelled as he and Inuyasha ran for the back door.

I remained, transfixed by the smooth gliding motion of the turret as it swung effortlessly around to face the house. "God damn it Shippo!" Inuyasha yelled as he came back and grabbed. It was too late; we both heard the thunder of their 70mm gun as Inuyasha pulled me to the ground.

We waited for the shell to rip through the house, to knock it down on top of us, to explode in front of us. You could almost say we waited, impatiently, for death of all things. It took us awhile to realize we were still in one piece, and not splattered all over the walls or buried under them. We carefully got to our feet and started to move away from the door. Our legs buckled and we dove for the ground again as a second shell was lobbed.

_They must have missed the first time _I remember thinking to myself _but they'll get us for sure now._ But after a few seconds it was obvious death had missed us again. Just then Miroku ran past and began firing out the door.

"Have you fucking lost it Miroku?" Inuyasha bellowed as he leapt up to grab Miroku. When he got to the doorway he stopped and shared a quick grin with Miroku, who was jamming in another clip. Inuyasha quickly grabbed his rifle from the floor and joined Miroku.

"You two have lost it!" I yelled at them as I pushed myself up, I brought my M-1 with me "But I'm sure as hell not going to let you ass-holes die and leave me alone!"

As I got to the door though, I heard panicked shrieks and screams. The once mighty German Panzer Grenadiers ran past us, most of them with a brown stain on the seat of their pants. Behind them were the flaming wreaks of their Panzers, the commander of the one aimed at our house hung limply over the side.

Lumbering behind them, enveloped in smoke from the flaming Panzers and their own guns were three big, beautiful Shermans. They were lobbing in shells at the fleeing Germans as Rangers peered cautiously out the doors and windows over looking the street. Before long they had joined in the massacre, using anything from rifles and grenades to pots and pans.

Soon enough the street was emptied of Germans and overjoyed Rangers were clambering on to the Shermans, forcing pack after pack of cigarettes and bottle after bottle of local wine onto the tankers. The wine had been found in the bombed out basements of the town and was now being enjoyed by the first force to hit the beach and their saviors.

The drinking lasted until midnight, when the last bottle of wine was uncorked and split between the tank commanders and Miroku. The four of them took large swigs before passing the bottle on, eventually draining it to the last drop. I even saw Inuyasha slipping some of the liquid from his flask to an eager tanker, who quickly gulped it down. It seconds the kid was flat on his back, out cold.

Inuyasha met my glance with a shrug and a whispered "White Lightning, thought he could handle it" before helping lift the tanker into his turret.

"All right men, load up!" shouted one of the tank commanders, amazingly still sober "Division will be wondering where the hell we are!" He exchanged a quick handshake with Miroku before climbing into his tank and speeding of up the road.

By morning new men had reinforced the position and we were pulled back. Of the over two hundred men Miroku and Inuyasha had come in with, only ninety were still fit for combat. And then, of course, there was me.

This has been sitting on my computer for weeks now, but here it is, and I'm happy with how it turned out. I hope you are to.


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